


The Heart Asks Pleasure First

by Linane



Series: The Sound of Silence [6]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Growth, Futuristic Elements, M/M, Sex, This is a story about growth of physical love, emotional h/c, fili and kili are not related, h/c, sex with feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linane/pseuds/Linane
Summary: They fall in love. But what about lust?





	1. The Heart Asks Pleasure First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rillaelilz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillaelilz/gifts), [FrankyOh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankyOh/gifts), [Silva_13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silva_13/gifts), [KLeonard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLeonard/gifts), [enrapturedreader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enrapturedreader/gifts), [foxriverinmate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxriverinmate/gifts), [Adaydreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adaydreamer/gifts), [Luke2leia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luke2leia/gifts), [Khim_Azaghal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khim_Azaghal/gifts), [Lisstu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisstu/gifts), [tigrislilium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigrislilium/gifts), [isisanubis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isisanubis/gifts), [Anathema_Cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anathema_Cat/gifts), [girlmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarvel/gifts), [ThornyHedge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge/gifts), [msilverstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msilverstar/gifts), [Blueskydancers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers/gifts), [Candicehrt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candicehrt/gifts), [Im_a_huge_fan_of_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_a_huge_fan_of_coffee/gifts), [islandkate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandkate/gifts), [Toeinthewater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toeinthewater/gifts), [ktime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktime/gifts), [KiliLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiliLover/gifts), [mina86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mina86/gifts), [PetitMinou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitMinou/gifts), [Ingi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingi/gifts), [AliceinDurinland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceinDurinland/gifts), [HollyAnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyAnn/gifts), [Eternal Scribe (Shadowcat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat/gifts), [Ruairi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruairi/gifts).



> I'm dedicating this work to the people who have left the last 100 of my comments - you make writing worth it. I rarely respond to my comments and I do feel guilty about it, but I choose to use the time it would take me to create new things instead. Know that I appreciate and read every single one of them. 
> 
>  
> 
> This story has been in the works since April and still isn't finished ( ~~hysterical laughter~~ ). It's what some of you have heard of, referred to as 'the big Silence update'. I wanted to really take my time developing this story line and I don't regret how long it's taken me.
> 
>  
> 
> It was originally meant to go up as another chapter of Heartbeat, but needed way more space than a single chapter. Then it was meant to be posted as a series of chapters in between the normal storyline, but I was worried it would be too confusing. And then it grew its own theme (music and atmosphere) and it really deserved to be its own thing. I'm quite emotionally attached to this, considering how far those two characters have come.
> 
>  
> 
> This story comes with its own theme song. You can choose from a [Nightwish version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hF04p4oO7lI), the [original version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsQBKr_x-P4) or the [extended version (30 mins)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wt8qgUo4kI).
> 
>  
> 
> Hopefully you'll enjoy coming on this journey along with Fili and Kili as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

 

There are times when Kili feels like he breathes in desire together with air.

It’s almost this tangible thing, like a heavy after-taste on his tongue or a freedom of a deep breath after the rain.

It would be easier if it was purely physical. If it was just about sensitive skin and a dusting of golden hair like crinkly threads of pure sunshine. If it was about steady hands, kiss-swollen lips and an intimate length of flesh between Fili’s legs, which Kili occasionally feels pressed through the fabric against his thigh when they sleep.

Unfortunately for Kili, it’s about so much _more_ than that.

Fili is at his most breath-taking, most _fuckable_ when he’s confident, relaxed and not afraid of asking for what he wants. Sometimes he looks straight at Kili like no one else ever looked at him, like he’s the only thing worth paying attention to, the only thing that matters to him.

He’s downright _lethal_ when he smiles, all dimples and bright light in his eyes.

And then occasionally, very rarely still, there are times when Fili just radiates power, makes people look to him, listen to him, though he doesn’t seem to notice. It makes Kili forget how to breathe and wonder what else Fili is actually capable of, and just how it came to be that Kili is meant to be his other half.

It’s like his love is spilling into lust.

Kili comes out of the bakery to see his One holding their giant umbrella, wearing his neat, fitted coat, Kili’s hoodie underneath, a pair of jeans he’s managed to wear into softness by now and his beloved converse, getting soggier by the minute.

Waiting for him. People watching. Warm, safe, strong. Confident yet curious. All of him – Kili’s.

There. An inhale and –

Kili would climb that like a tree.

The physical aspect of their relationship hasn’t been at the forefront of Kili’s mind so far – he’s been too preoccupied discovering the person that Fili is, learning the emotional landscape of his soul and falling in love with the whole package.

But he does wonder now; every now and then. He wonders what it might be like being with Fili, how he’d feel about skin naked with purpose, if he’s got any other facets to him that Kili has yet to discover. He wants to see more, wants to break through this calm, safe exterior and make him feel pleasure, learn what Fili is like when he’s wild and his hands are free to roam.

He carefully files those thoughts away for later, like a treat too precious to actually taste, yet tantalising with the sheer promise of sweetness.

For now, once he’s close enough, Kili pulls him into a tight hug, baguettes and all, just to have something physical of him, something to take for himself.

“I’ve missed you too.” Amused, full of warm love, and Fili nuzzles his hair aside with his nose, so he can press a kiss to the side of his neck.

 _How do you kiss when you find skin more sensitive and with a different aim in mind?_ Kili wonders.

“Got everything?” Fili asks, taking his hand and twining their fingers. That’s right. They’ll walk back home holding hands. It’s delightful. It’s not enough.

“Mhm. Just the milk at the corner shop and then we’re all done,” Kili replies and on impulse leans in to steal a kiss. Not a chase, _in public_ kiss; a proper one, with tongue slipping past warm lips and one hand in Fili’s hair.

Fili kisses back easily, pushing up a little on his toes. He’s not ashamed, not afraid of _more_ \- never was. He never gave Kili the impression that there was a barrier of some sort between them, something that might be considered a step too far.

But he’s also never once pressed for more. Fili takes kisses when he wants them, curls happily into intimacy, sure, and he’s not above manhandling Kili, gently yet firmly, into an optimal position for cuddles. But that’s all love, trust, easy closeness between them, and his own natural Fili-ness, and it lacks the fire which Kili’s mind dances around.

One day, one of them will push, Kili is certain of it.

Blue eyes search brown for a fraction of a second and then Fili gives him a smug little smile and turns around to _strut_ back home, completely unaware of what that does to Kili.

 

\---

 

It wasn’t always like that, for them.

Kili remembers those early days when he’d sometimes catch a glimpse of ribs under the tightly stretched skin, as Fili pulled on a t-shirt. He remembers Fili’s hands, raw and too pink from furious scrubbing of his own body. Not to mention all the bruises and the healing gunshot wound – Fili’s story is written in his skin for all to see, and while he’s too defiant to look ashamed, it still affects him, affects _them_.

Sometimes Kili is afraid to touch him at all, fully expecting Fili to flinch and look at him with betrayal. There is no desire between them; only the sense of wrongness and the need to protect.

The big, blue, honest eyes are the first thing that captivates Kili, but it isn’t quite desire yet, just pure, breathless fascination. Kili can read those eyes effortlessly, even when Fili carefully keeps all his words, afraid that they might escape unbidden.

The artist in Kili can never be any different, will never overlook the sheer power of that guarded, quietly rebellious gaze among a network of tiny crinkles on a weather-worn face. It’s the first visual thing about Fili that Kili is drawn to, the one he will always find himself coming back to, even after hundreds and thousands of striking photographs.

Fili lets him watch, lets him take all the shots he wants; whether because he feels that it’s a small gift to give, because it’s Kili who aims his lens at him, or because he’s learned to watch Kili in turn, Kili isn’t sure.

The more Kili sees, the more he understands, the more human Fili becomes to him. It’s his humanity in turn that breaks through Kili’s fears and allows them small physical gestures of affection. They learn to touch, to comfort each other with it, simply taking closeness for what it is.

Kili remembers the first time he does feel desire for his One.

It’s one sunny morning in southern France, when Fili rolls out of their messy bed in a quiet little B&B, swings his legs over the side and sits there heavily for a few long moments, trying to shake his sleepiness off. His hair is an utter mess, hanging in loose, wavy strands all around his face, illuminated by the brilliant golden light streaming in through the curtains and causing Fili to squint in an utterly beloved, familiar way.

Kili’s hands reach for him automatically, mostly because he wants to keep the familiar weight close for a while longer. He likes feeling Fili up against him, likes how his muscles relax at such times and his breaths slow down. It’s quiet, simple trust and Kili can’t get enough of it.

But on that occasion his hands land in Fili’s hair instead, slip through the tangled tresses, and without his conscious command start braiding them away from Fili’s face.

Fili doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even acknowledge the little tugs on his scalp, except his eyes slip closed, giving up on trying to will the sun back under the horizon, and he tilts his head a little to accommodate Kili better. That’s trust, but it’s also -

Pleasure.

Right there, reflected on Fili’s face is pure, lazy, delighted pleasure, and Kili’s mind instantly decides that the little sparks of it need to be blown into a full, all-consuming fire.

Only _that_ won’t happen until much later.

 

\---

 

Fili would have missed it, if not for the precariously positioned spoon.

He’s taking the empty cereal bowls to the kitchen to rinse them while Kili is having his morning shower, when one of the spoons slips off the edge and lands on the floor.

He pauses in front of the bathroom door to retrieve it –

“Hnnnn…” his ears pick out a faint moan, making him freeze and listen.

Then nothing, just the sound of running water. He’s turning away to leave when –

“F- Fee!”

Oh.

_Oh!_

The way his own personal nickname sounds in that low, sultry voice… Kili must have uttered it a thousand times since he invented it within hours of Fili’s unexpected arrival in his life, but never like _this_.

Fili stares at the innocent bathroom door for a long moment, rooted in place. It’s very quiet, barely more than a whisper and he’d never know if he wasn’t practically standing there with an ear pressed against the wood.

_But that would mean –_

The tips of his ears colour slightly at the desperate little whimper trembling across the short distance between them.

Somehow, his next thought is that it shouldn’t sound so sad, should it?

 

\---

 

“Decided against clothes today, I see?” Twenty minutes later and his familiar, cheerful Kili is back in the kitchen, picking up a mug of his cold morning tea and gulping it down.

Fili looks down at himself in something of a dawning realisation: a pair of cotton boxer shorts and one of Kili’s comfy, old t-shirts, stretched, sliding slightly off one shoulder.

Not that Kili is doing much better: a towel, precariously clinging to his hips and another one thrown around his shoulders to stop his wet hair dripping down his back.

They’re not exactly bashful around each other.

Fili catches himself staring, swallows.

“You want me.”

It just comes out.

Their eyes meet for a moment and it’s all it takes for the penny to drop. Fili could kick himself.

“I – I’m sorry,” Kili stammers, eyes fixed firmly on his bare feet. “I’ve never… Not with you around. Only when I thought… In private. And only sometimes, when it gets –“ he risks a quick glance, ears and cheeks bright red and it would look adorable if not for this utter, devastating shame written all over his face.

That’s not right. Fili gets up from his chair, has to be closer, has to find a way to fix this.

“I swear to you: I’d never hurt you, Fili.” Kili’s voice is stronger now, infused with conviction, and his hands are curled into fists. “I’d never touch you if you didn’t want it. Never in a million years! Never _ever_ if you decide… I’m sorry, I really, really am. I’d say it’ll never happen again, but –“

By now Fili has covered the distance, despite Kili backing away until his back hits the counter top, and he can finally wrap those fists in the protective touch of his own fingers.

“You _want_ me,” he repeats, stunned.

“Please don’t go. Please.” It’s only a whisper, but between the two of them it might as well be a scream.

Fili sees fear, shame and regret and he doesn’t understand. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says simply, leaning right into Kili’s personal space. “I want to be right here. Besides, where would I go? My heart picked you.”

He wraps his arms around the damp, naked shoulders and pulls his One closer, until he can feel the stiff muscles giving in.

“You’re not freaked out?” Kili asks carefully.

“Surprised,” Fili corrects gently, then pauses, his own thoughts scattered. “Doesn’t it bother you that I’ve been used?”

“U- Used?! Oh God, Fili. Did they –“ Kili stumbles, eventually settles on: “Did someone hurt you?” Hands cradling his face and brown eyes searching blue, full of sadness and fierce protectiveness.

“No.” Fili looks away. “But I have had other partners before.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t love them. But I trusted them,” he says carefully, watching for a reaction. “Sometimes… out there, it was the only scrap of happiness you could have, the only way to forget, just for a moment. It made me feel… human.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Oh.”

“Does it bother you that I haven’t?”

“Haven’t -?” _Oh._ “No, of course not,” he murmurs gently, touched by the momentary flash of insecurity so unusual for his Kili.

“It’s not by design or conviction, you know. I just never had that kind of connection. With anyone.”

Fili nods, slowly.

There’s a moment’s silence when Kili clearly works his way up towards saying something else and Fili does his best to make it easier for him.

“I’m clean, Kili. They tested me for STDs when you put me on your med policy. I have the results –“

“No, that’s not – I trust you. Besides, they’re required by law to tell me, if you’re registered as my One.”

“Then what…?” Fili trails off uncertainly, but gives him time, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs to the backs of Kili’s elbows. Kili will talk when he’s ready.

“It’s just that… I don’t want you thinking that you… owe me something, that you have to, just because I want you.” he says eventually, clearly uncomfortable. “I meant what I said: I’d never take advantage of you. I know sometimes people… really _bad people_ , they… take the Voiceless in, to… I don’t want your body as some sort of payment,” he stammers.

Fili blinks slowly at the awkward confession, his heart speeding up in his chest with a tangle of conflicting emotions. It takes a moment to find his voice again and when he does it’s only quiet and a little hoarse. “Kili, I fell in love with you, because of the sort of person you are. I know you; I trust you.” He allows himself a little tease when he says, “and I suppose it would only be fair for you to know that I want you too. You’re gorgeous, Kili.”

A blush, fierce and this time very becoming on Kili’s cheeks.

“Sssssooo… You mean you wouldn’t, purely theoretically of course, be opposed to…“ there’s a tiny hopeful smile there and Fili feels like someone has pumped the air back into the room.

He offers a slow little smile of his own. “No, purely theoretically I wouldn’t.”

“Right.”

He peers for a moment into the trusting dark eyes in front of him, feels humbled and still slightly baffled about how Kili could possibly want this. He does his best not to overthink it, instead focussing on what his heart dictates.

“You know, if we do this… I don’t want you to rush, I don’t want _us_ to rush. This is important, Kili, _you’re_ important to me,” he whispers as gently as he knows how. “I’d like to know more, understand what you’re comfortable with. Think you could tell me?”

“Would you tell me too? About you…”

“Yes.”

“Okay then. Fili?”

“Yes?”

“I’m cold.”

Fili can’t help the smile, but he presses his forehead against Kili’s collar bone in an attempt to hide it.

“My toes feel like ice,” Kili grumbles, then tries to awkwardly slot them in between Fili’s own. It doesn’t really work, but it does remind Fili that whatever else happens, he has a duty of care towards this passionate, grown up man who sometimes curls up in the crook of his arm and falls asleep, like a younger sibling might.

“To bed then. And let’s get your hair sorted.”

Kili allows it when Fili twines their fingers together and pulls him towards their bedroom. It’s the safest place he knows and Kili looks like he needs to be kept safe for a while.

They don’t really make it back out either. The rest of the Saturday is spent whispering conspiratorially in the soft, diffused light pouring in through the still-drawn curtains, confessions traded, questions answered honestly, intimate details shared, and familiar, soothing movements of their hands exchanged.

 

\---

To be continued.


	2. - And Then, Excuse From Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter includes mentions of minor character non-con, violence and suicide.

 

“Fili?”

He’s used to the early morning questions by now, the ones that catch him half way between sleep and wakefulness when he’s at his most honest and open.

“Hm?”

“Are you really not angry with me for doing… _that_ in the shower?”

It takes him a moment to work out what _that_ might be. “No, I’m not.”

“And you really want me too? You’re sure?”

It’s been over a week, but Kili is clearly still working through their little realisation.

“Pretty sure. I have been doing _that_ in the shower too.”

“Fili!!”

Tiny smile.

“I can’t actually imagine that,” Kili considers after a moment. “You’re always so well put together, so sensible.”

“Maybe one day I’ll show you, so you won’t have to imagine any more.”

“Oh God, Fee!!”

He knows better, but he allows his eyes to slide open anyway. “I’m human, Kili. I can be made to want, to hurt, to love, to care, to be conflicted. I feel things, the same as you.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“Haven’t I taken enough?”

A pause. Fili closes his eyes once more, conscious that it’s not what Kili wants to hear. He wasn’t meant to let it slip, but he’s defenceless like this.

“You know, I ask myself the same thing,” Kili whispers softly, thoughtfully. “But then I think everything I learned from you, _because_ of you, tells me that love is meant to be brave. And rash, and sometimes stupid.” Fili opens his eyes just in time to see him smile, with his lips as well as his eyes. “So no, I think you have lots more to take.”

“Like you,” Fili breathes, suddenly un-complicated and clear in what he wants.

“Like me,” Kili agrees, his breath hitching when Fili very deliberately places his palm over the warm skin of his stomach.

It’s the first time he can actually see Kili’s naked need for him, first time he feels Kili’s body tremble and grow taut under his touch, as opposed to relaxing. Kili is making himself stay perfectly still for Fili, yet the air between them is charged with tension, between the carefully controlled inhales and exhales capable of turning into moans.

It isn’t just Kili either, Fili realises, feeling his cock fill in slowly, with the steady pounding of the blood in his ears. He crowds in closer, turned on by having caught the one thing he wants, allowing his fingertips to wander and coax even more of a reaction.

It’s Kili who yanks him down for a desperate kiss, his tongue begging admittance, and having been granted it, finding its way inside Fili’s mouth, wet, hot and tasting of sleep.

Love slips in easily inside Fili’s heart, coils sinuously around his desire and somehow quenches it, while making him want Kili even more acutely. He slows down the kiss, deepens it and pushes back for something more meaningful.

It makes it real: seeing Kili like this, feeling him react and crave Fili’s touch, and perhaps Fili needed some time for the events of last week to sink in too.

“I didn’t want to risk sending you running for the hills,” Fili murmurs against Kili’s swollen, wet lips, because they need to put this to bed before they can move on. “And I didn’t think you’d want… well, me. Not considering where you found me.”

“Any more?”

“Of what?”

“That insecurity that I need to kiss and love out of you.”

“I think this was the last of it. It’s the most intimate.” Fili murmurs with all the simplicity and honesty in his heart. “I will need a bit more loving though. You know, just to ground it all in place.”

“Mmmm.” Another kiss, deep and slow, and words, assurances, which Kili doesn’t need to say, because Fili feels them with every cell in his body. “Me too. A _whole lot_ more loving.”

Fili grins, his eyes sparkling with delight and mischief.

He’s kissed once more, gently, thoughtfully, and he’s defenceless against that too. He shifts his hand to Kili’s waist, easier now, more familiar, then his back, his shoulder blades, pulls all of it closer, gets rewarded with a pleased hum and more kisses.

He remembers the desperate need under the stream of hot water, which wouldn’t subside no matter how much Fili scowled at it. He remembers feeling guilty, when his mind conjured an image of dark, soulful eyes, of broad, kissable lips, of dark trails of hair covering the skin. He remembers hot tears, washed away by water instantly, when he brought himself so close that his pleasure felt exactly like happiness, the sort of unattainable happiness that some tiny fragment of his soul had been screaming for ever since it was created.

The sort of happiness he feels right now, except it doesn’t burn him, doesn’t hurt, and his eyes stay dry as he nuzzles into Kili’s shoulder in hopes of being able to nap a bit longer.

 

\---

 

“How did you survive puberty?”

Fili’s eyes are soft and thoughtful, a slight crinkling of the laugh lines around his eyes betraying his amusement. But the question isn’t intended to make fun of Kili, rather genuinely curious, and Kili thinks that it’s a good thing that Fili is his closest friend as well as his One, or else he’d never get the response out.

“I have toys,” Kili huffs, pretending to be more embarrassed than he is, “if you must know.”

Fili tenses. It’s impossible to hide, since a good portion of his chest serves as Kili’s pillow.

“Fee?”

“What kind of toys?”

It comes out too quiet and Kili is forced to look up once more, press a reassuring kiss over Fili’s heart.

“W-Well, you know. Uhm…” he can feel himself blushing for real now, but continues all the same. This is Fili after all, and if he can’t tell him, who _can_ he tell? “There’s actually only a few. Two prostate massagers, one vibe. One, ah, butt plug, made out of temperature-sympathetic metal. And some anal beads,” he answers truthfully.

“Any neuro-link type toys?”

Kili snorts. “No, that sort of tech is ridiculously expensive!”

Fili is silent for a long moment, his fingers lost in the riot of Kili’s hair, his thoughts lost in another, earlier life.

“I knew someone once,” he finally offers by the way of an explanation. “He had a pleasure core put in him. Couldn’t take it out, couldn’t make it stop. He…” Fili swallows. “He didn’t make it.”

Kili’s breath catches and he looks up to see the honest blue eyes watching him in turn. “Fili. I’d _never_ -“

“I know. I really, really do. But I don’t think I’d ever let you use neuro-link type toys on me.”

“Alright,” Kili says simply, because it feels like it requires acknowledgement. “It must have been awful for you when you found out though. That’s such a cruel, intimate betrayal.”

Fili’s eyes tell him that it’s not a story he wants to share. Instead, the golden head tilts lower and Kili meets him half way for a slow, meaningful kiss.

“It was a long time ago,” Fili murmurs quietly once they pull apart. “You’re nothing like the person who did it. You’ve never looked at me… like I was anything less than I am. And I meant what I said: I know you’d never knowingly hurt me. I trust you, Kili. Anything else you want; I’d let you do anything.”

Kili bites his lip, a little bit turned on, a little bit scared, a whole lot of grateful. He’s glad he hasn’t rushed into sex, before. He can’t imagine trying this with someone else, how it might have felt or gone.

“Do you have a preference?” he asks, carefully curious.

“I do,” Fili smiles, relaxing once more. “I have a strong preference for you.”

“ _Strong_ preference, eh?”

“One could almost call it an addiction.”

“Or, you know, _love_?”

“Or that,” Fili agrees, looking pleased with himself.

Kili snorts. “I love you too, Fee. But I rather meant, um, a preferred role…”

“That would be as your lover, partner and –“

“Fili!”

“Alright, alright. I don’t, actually. I have enjoyed both giving and receiving pleasure. I suppose it depends on the mood. Do you?”

“I… don’t know. It would have been a bit theoretical so far.” Kili curls up a little into the strong arm wrapped around his shoulders, tucking him in closer.

“Well, I can think of a number of excellent ways in which we could find out,” Fili practically purrs, low and newly exciting and Kili can’t help but think that he wouldn’t be opposed to finding out even straight away.

 

\---

 

The man is in his forties, receding hairline not too prominent yet, perfectly trimmed goatee, a pair of aviators hiding his eyes. He's trying, just a little bit too hard, to be seen as 'cool'. All his clothes – a perfectly-cut suit and a fur-lined coat with a fashionable fastening under the neck – appear to be tailor-made out of synth fabric, allowing the dirty, hazy rain to roll right off them.

He's far too-well put together to be in their alleyway, where the Voiceless huddle together near the ventilation shafts for warmth. And yet, here he is, eyeing each one of them slowly, as if they were cattle.

Fili narrows his eyes.

He's so cold right now that he can't feel his legs, despite trying to move them as much as possible. He's hungry too, but not so much yet to risk leaving his spot huddled between two neighbouring bodies to go and rifle the bins. Whoever leaves, loses their spot.

The man eventually stops in front of him, regarding him slowly head to toe. Then, apparently satisfied, he nudges the sole of his shoe and gestures for Fili to come with him.

Fili is 16. With his striking blue eyes, which don't seem to want to go dull no matter what happens to him, and shaggy blond hair, curling and twisting around his ears, he's been on the receiving end of such invitations since his first days on the streets, nearly 2 years ago.

He shakes his head no, then tenses, ready to bolt, because people like Suits are used to getting what they want, with consent or without it, and he's had to fight his way out before.

But Suits doesn't seem to be all that bothered. Instead he shifts his gaze onto the Voiceless next to him and prods his shoe in turn.

Pablo (not his real name, but they think he was an artist once, couldn't make a living out of it) regards him right back for a long moment, his gaze measuring Suits from head to toe, in the same way as they've been scrutinized. Fili would feel a tiny bit smug if he wasn't so overwhelmingly cold.

They are not exactly friends, Pablo and Fili, nobody really is on the streets, but they are enough of companions, that they tend to stick together and share food. Being in his late twenties, Pablo has far more experience of the streets than Fili, and he's taught Fili quite a few tricks - where to go for fresh leftovers, how to jump the tube barriers attracting minimum attention, which areas are controlled by the gangs.

Here, on the streets, this is what ‘help’ looks like and Fili is grateful for it.

Eventually Pablo nods and pushes himself to his feet. He throws Fili a pale smile and a wink, which may or may not mean a promise of food once he's back. He’s a kind person; too kind really to live on the streets.

Fili isn't stupid: he knows what Suits wants from Pablo; from himself, if he could get it. The running rate for ‘anything goes’ night of sex with a Voiceless is a shower, roof over their head for the night and a meal. Sometimes spare change.

He'd like to think that he'd never ever fall low enough to follow a stranger home, but he knows that the street has a way of verifying one’s beliefs and convictions.

For now he’s just happy that someone else took his place. He shifts to close the gap left by Pablo in their huddle and feels someone on his other side shift as well.

That pale smile is the last he will ever see of Pablo.

 

\---

 

He’s drifting off when the memory gets interrupted by Kili’s voice.

“Fili?”

“Hm?”

“You’re all tense.”

“Mmm.”

A little kiss to his shoulder. “Can you take off your t-shirt for me? I want to try something.”

“Mmm.”

“Fili.”

“Mmm?”

“T-shirt.”

Fili moves, sluggishly, to pull at the edge of the fabric, forgets why he’s moving half way through the gesture and curls up again. He wishes Kili’s hands returned.

A huff and Kili is peeling him out of it himself, with Fili doing his level best to try and co-operate. He blinks slowly at the lovely dark eyes in front of him, runs his hand through the mess of dark hair, trying to push it out of Kili’s face, even though he knows it’s completely futile.

“Now lie back down. Onto your front.”

He hugs a pillow to his chest, since he’s been clearly banished from Kili’s warmth and affection for some reason.

“I’ve always had such a thing for your back. Especially since you decided to basically spend your life in the water.”

Fili blinks slowly, reality tempting him away from sleep with this confusing, yet interesting development.

Kili loves him; Kili can be trusted to touch him, to do what he wants. Kili is kind, and gentle, and patient. Not like those people on the streets.

He doesn’t know how to be afraid of his touch, even if perhaps he should be -

A kiss, to one of the knobs of his spine. Kili’s hands tracing the lines of his muscles, the shape of his shoulder blades. Another kiss, lips mapping out patterns on his skin. He tries to count the kisses, but loses track within minutes. Kili’s fingers meanwhile patiently rub circles into some imaginary knots he thinks he finds, and Fili’s skin is re-wired to crave Kili’s touch, so it can telegraph each slow caress directly into wherever it is that his happiness lives.

His skin breaks out in goose-bumps and it’s hard to keep the shivers of pleasure under control.

Why his back? What’s that for?

He moans when Kili licks into the dip of his spine, his hands cradling his sides and mapping the exact layout of his ribs. He gives in and allows a full-bodied shiver when Kili lavishes attention on the nape of his neck, when his breath tickles the fine hair there.

He waits to see when Kili’s hands will push aside his shorts, but they never do.

It must be a _love thing_ , rather than a _sex thing_ , Fili eventually concludes.

By the time Kili has finally finished picking him apart and has instead slotted himself flush behind him, hands trespassing onto his chest, lips content to kiss constellations into the faint freckles on Fili’s shoulders, he isn’t too sure where his edges are.

He doesn’t care; he’s sleepy once again on the low thrum of love and he will be anything Kili wants him to be.

It’s safe. He’s safe. He’s loved.

 

\---

 

When Pablo doesn’t return in the morning, or even afternoon, several Voiceless go looking for him, but they can only trace his whereabouts as far as the car he got into.

It isn’t all that unusual for a client to be satisfied enough with their latest toy to keep it for another night or longer, but they always at least send a message – it’s their own little way of staying safe, or trying to.

When the night falls and there is still no sign of Pablo, most of them give up. Fili tries too, but feels too restless and instead finds himself up on his aching feet once more, wandering the city and trying to peer into the bright warmth of people’s homes in hopes of spotting his friend.

It’s the sound that attracts his attention first – police sirens at 5 a.m. in the morning are unusual. Even thieves and murderers must find their sleep eventually.

He follows them over quite a long distance, half-running, half-stumbling, until his legs take him to a building site for some new highrise.

It could be nothing; _it’s probably nothing_ , and yet, somehow Fili has got a bad feeling about this.

By the time he gets there, several local Voiceless are already milling around the site, standing silent witness to whatever grisly crime has attracted the cops.

There is a corpse stretched grotesquely in the middle of the early skeleton of a building.

Both legs twisted to an impossible angle, arms stretched like wings and a dark stain like a halo around the back of its head. The body is naked, plain and simple depiction of all that is left of a person that once was: some bruises around hips, chest full of bones and a pair of unseeing eyes.

Fili recognises his friend instantly, even from the distance. His first instinct is to look up, confused about how Pablo could have fallen, _so high, it must have taken so long_ , what he could have possibly been doing here?

The _corpse_ is _Pablo_. He must have jumped.

Fili’s eyes widen and then he falls to his knees, violently sick and retching soundlessly into the dirt. Someone says something to him and when Fili doesn’t react, they kick him in the ribs, which only makes him throw up harder. Eventually someone grabs him by his jacket and tries to physically pull him back.

It’s only then, when he’s upright once more, that Fili’s eyes register a peculiar little detail about Pablo’s body, which he’s missed before: it appears to be twitching still, the lower half of his body jerking from time to time, despite the injuries.

_He’s still alive!! He needs help!_

Fili manages to twist free, makes it perhaps ten more steps towards Pablo, when he’s caught once more, this time by the Voiceless.

He wants to scream. Can’t they all see it?! Are they just going to leave him there to die?! At least let Fili stay with him!

He thinks he throws a punch or two, but there are four of them and he’s feeling dizzy with hunger. Some shouting ensues, commotion, and he digs his heels in, but they haul him back anyway, and he’s helpless to watch as the services spend an age casually documenting the scene, taking endless photos and eventually transferring the body into a body bag.

_No!! You can’t just – Write him off! He’s my friend!!_

The screams echo in his head empty and raw and all-consuming for hours, long after the ambulance and the police have driven away.

It’s quiet now, eerily quiet. Pablo is gone.

 _It was a pleasure core, that’s why he kept twitching,_ one of ones who held Fili back, a woman, writes in the muddy ground, nudging him to read. _I’ve seen it before – It taps directly into your nerves, so there’s pleasure no matter what. Orgasms on demand and all that – it’s all the rage. But lately there’s been an illegal mod around, which locks it in place, for those who seek extra thrill. He couldn’t take it out._

The sense of horror sinks in fast and Fili stares at the woman so mortified, so chilled to the bone that he can hardly breathe. _He couldn't take it out_ \- the simple, uneven letters burn into Fili's eyes.

 _There was another one just like it last month. It makes them go crazy and when they can’t take it any more – they end it. Only the nerves and muscles keep going._ A pause. Then: _Sorry._

Fili doesn’t know how long he stands there, staring at the simple words, doesn’t notice the hot tears dripping down his cheeks. He feels numb, like the universe has finally killed that one last part of him that cared.

And throughout it all there’s a single thought: _It could have been me_.

 

\---

 

“Fili?”

“Hm?”

“You’re crying.”

Kili doesn’t ask. He simply pulls him tight to his own chest and doesn’t let go.

 

\---


	3. And This Is How It Starts

 

Fili thinks about Pablo, his fingers almost unconsciously sketching a familiar face in the corner of the page in his journal. The way it was, when Pablo was still alive. He’d probably say it’s a shit portrait of him, but it is the only one in existence.

There are echoes sometimes, when he’s having a bad day. A _memory_ of fear and urgent self-preservation instinct.

An automatic firing of synapses making him wonder what Kili really wants, exactly what he’ll do to Fili and how he’ll be treated after.

If he’ll still be wanted, needed.

He flicks through the pages of his journal. Pages and pages of acceptance, kindness, of something that Fili truly helped make _theirs_ , not just Kili’s.

He _knows_ the answers to his questions, wants to laugh at them, and yet, it’s a proof of how far they’ve come, that even if Fili didn’t, he still wouldn’t be able to help wanting Kili, whatever the cost.

 

\---

 

It’s morning, early morning, and it’s raining. Fili’s absolute favourite weather to be in bed.

Everything is warm, dry and comfortable, with Kili for once having taken the big spoon position, which God rightfully intended for him.

There’s a hand splayed over Fili’s tum, its fingers lost in the crinkly golden hair there, tracing the most fantastical patterns in a gesture which Fili has long ago learned to associate with safety, relaxation and protection. Close to a year ago those gentle movements were sometimes the only thing keeping him in bed at all, or allowing him to find his sleep. Today though, they’re merely another one of Kili’s quirky little habits, helping reassure Kili perhaps more so than Fili.

 _My golden lion_ , Kili often calls him. But surely, Fili thinks, if he’s a lion, then he’s been thoroughly domesticated. He’d probably be an old one – fur patchy, scars, his mane a mess, a piece of ear missing -

Kili nuzzles some of his mane aside and half-kisses, half-sucks a little love mark to Fili’s pulse-point. Blue eyes blink in hazy pleasure and without a conscious thought he wriggles back for more.

He can feel Kili’s body go rigid behind him when a half-hard length brushes against Fili’s ass. He allows himself a private little smile, but makes no move whatsoever. If Kili is going to tease him like that, then two can play this game.

Besides, his One shouldn’t be rushed – left with an unlimited access to a warm and pliant Fili, sooner or later Kili is bound to work himself up into wanting more. Fili is nothing if not a patient man.

So for now he relaxes – spoilt and delighted – and he waits for Kili’s resolve to break.

Forty-five minutes. And three more ‘accidental’ brushes.

“Fee?”

“Mmmm?”

“Can I… uh. You’ve been wriggling all over and I… I’d like to touch you. Can I?” Fili can feel his blush without looking at his One, as he tucks his nose into the crook of Fili’s neck.

He stretches leisurely, moving one arm out of the way to grab his pillow, muscles shifting subtly under his skin. There’s more of him that would like Kili’s touch and he likes this game of silent temptation. “Mmmmm… yes, I think you should,” he allows.

Fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers for a moment, stroking the skin and hair there until if feels like minefield of a demarcation zone along some boundary, before they slip, ever so carefully under it.

“Oh God, Fili,” Kili whispers into his skin, as his fingers close carefully around Fili’s cock, teasing with uncertain touches.

Fili rolls onto his back so he can peer into the dark brown eyes. He wraps one arm around the back of Kili’s neck and pulls him down for a slow kiss, rolling his hips at the same time to slot his length more firmly into Kili’s hand.

He _wants_ and he’s not afraid to ask.

“Just 'Fili' for you." He knows he looks smug, but he can't help it.

Kili snorts, but there are sparks of mischief and laughter in his eyes and they look breathtaking like this, up close. 

"Mmmmnh!” Fili moans and arches into the firm twist of Kili's fingers.

He blinks. Moans are _new_. He supposes he’s never had to hold them back before. Moans or cries, or – 

“Ahh!!” His entire body shivers when Kili teases the head of his cock.

“Is this okay?”

“Do I look like I have any complaints?!”

Kili’s smile is dark and full of promise. “Roll back over, I want to hold you close through it. And let’s get these down properly.” Fili groans when the hand leaves his cock and starts tugging at his boxer shorts instead.

“ _You_ roll over,” he huffs, but helpfully lifts his hips off the bed all the same to aid with the underwear, before shuffling so he can be face to face with his confused-looking One. “I want to get you off too.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to.”

A kiss during which his hand finds the contour of Kili’s waist, caresses it, gets lost in the dark, crinkly hair just below. “Kili. I _want_ to get you off too,” he repeats, slowly, searching dark eyes.

“Uh… Yes, okay. Please.” Kili mumbles, but isn’t ashamed, not really, not inside his heated gaze which begs for Fili’s touch.

Fili slips his fingers under the band of his shorts, toys for a moment with the swirls of coarse hair he finds there, rubbing little circles into it, before taking a firm hold of the hot, heavy length of Kili’s cock.

Kili twitches and gives an almost relieved moan, his whole body relaxing and curling closer, his eyes sliding closed, even as his own hands scramble to push the interfering fabric of his underwear down for himself.

“Good?” Fili asks, close and warm.

“Yesssss…” Kili hisses, his hips bucking of their own accord.

Preoccupied for a moment by the instinctive reaction, he can’t help but use his other arm, trapped under Kili’s neck, to tuck him closer still, kissing and nibbling at his collar bone, before his possessive instincts win over the constant, humble, pulsing love he appears to be wrapped in and Fili sucks a little mark to the skin stretched taut over the bone.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Fili prompts gently, smile pressed against Kili’s damp skin.

“Hm? Oh! Sorry!” Kili fumbles for a second, then pauses. “Actually, wait. Just a second.”

Fili rolls his eyes, rests his forehead against Kili’s chest, as his One rolls over to grapple blindly at his bedside cabinet. He does his best to sabotage him, his fingertips gently teasing Kili’s slit, making him nearly drop the thing he was trying to retrieve.

“Stop that!” Kili pants, finally coming back with a tub of clear lube. He squeezes a bit onto his hand, warms it on his fingers before wordlessly passing the lube to Fili.

And then that wonderful hand is on him once more, slippery, easy and perfect, making Fili move his hips in a slow rhythm, teasing himself, loving the feeling of unfamiliar long fingers on sensitive skin.

“So easily distracted, honestly,” Fili murmurs in mock disapproval, picking up where he left off and spreading the lube evenly.

“In my defence, you do have your hand literally on my dick.”

“I thought photographers were meant to be able to maintain their focus no matter what.”

“Wouldn’t know, never tried shooting while getting a handjob.”

“Would you like to?”

A harsh twitch of Kili’s cock and widening of dark eyes tell Fili that he would. “With you as the subject?”

He speeds up the pace, strangely turned on by the prospect of baring himself for Kili’s lens, letting him capture their pleasure. It was just a stray off-the-cuff remark, but now that it’s hovering between them…

“Would you want to? I’m not a porn star.”

“No. You’re you.” Kili agrees, his hips stuttering in their own counter-pace. “Fuck, Fili, that would be so hot.”

He pushes up a little to search that beloved face, but can’t find anything there but earnest desire and breathless anticipation and that in turn feels like he’s taken a deep breath of some smokey poison, love swelling into lust and making him feel light-headed.

“One day,” he promises, because between now and then there are wonderful things yet to be discovered. “For now… faster, Kili. I’m not going to break.”

Kili obliges and for a while there’s nothing between them but a slick slide of their hands, breathless moans and decadent kisses traded together with air. They clash at first, hands getting in each other’s way, laugh about it, until Fili uses his hips to set up a steady rhythm that works for both of them. Kili holds him differently, moves in the way Fili hasn’t felt on himself before, seeking contact and more touches, more _Fili_ , and it’s the most erotic thing Fili has ever felt.

Kili is so incredibly open about his pleasure – eyes blown wide, gasps and moans loud and demanding, fingers twitching around Fili’s cock every time Fili gets some particular caress right.

And then there’s the constant murmur of approval.

“Fili… Fee…” he positively whines, steals a hungry kiss, “sssso good, why’ve not done this sooner? I can’t believe that you’d let me touch you, love feeling you, like this, so close… ‘S this good?” He’s babbling, but it’s still full of love and care and Fili can’t bring himself to point it out.

“Yeah… Yeah, that’s good. I like it when you twist your wrist like that, right at the end. Unh, just like that, can you do that again?”

“I love it when you ask,” Kili groans breathlessly, carelessly, the counter-thrusts of his hips making everything more uncoordinated.

“You want me to ask for my pleasure?”

Kili’s mouth hangs open and Fili watches, entranced, as his pupils grow dilated despite the morning light.

“Make me come, Kili. Please.”

It’s Kili who comes first, just from those simple words, but it’s his reaction, his entire body trembling as he covers both their hands and bellies with hot, sticky release, which pushes Fili into his own orgasm, on a helpless cry of Kili’s name.

Kili’s hand carefully modulates Fili’s climax, slowing down, but patiently wringing the last of it out of him among gasps and moans and noise, so much noise they both generate.

It all comes to a slow, messy end with the realisation that the sheets will need a thorough wash.

After, they just want to hold each other, close and tight and shivering, hands reaching, pulling, as if they needed the cage of each other’s arms to stay intact.

“Should have known that you’d have a filthy mouth. It’s always the quiet ones,” Kili offers philosophically, flicking the covers off because it’s too damn hot under them.

Fili is the first one to start laughing. He can’t explain it, but it’s like happiness bubbling over, and high as he is swimming in endorphins, it seems like the funniest thing in the world.

Kili gives him a puzzled look, which of course only makes him laugh harder, and indeed invokes Kili’s own bout of giggles within seconds.

 

\---

 

Fili stops and hovers by the door with a cup of tea.

Sitting a few feet away at his desk, Kili is editing his photos, idly twisting an unruly, brown strand in his fingers. It’s a tease, but an unconscious one.

In fact, most of Kili’s physicality is completely unconscious.

Their relationship, whatever it was, has always been physical, from that very first day when Kili reached out a hand to help him up. He has known that touch for as long as he’s known Kili, and somewhere during that quiet revolution that conquered his heart he has learned to love it, to crave it, just as much the man himself.

It’s one of Kili’s defining characteristics: touching, feeling, pushing or pulling, pressing and holding - it’s how he learns his world. Today Fili takes all of those with absolute ease and returns them, just as tactile, without thinking.

He closes the distance between them, places the mug on Kili’s desk, using it as a distraction as he leans in and kisses, licks and nuzzles the side of Kili’s neck, his lips causing enough of a reaction to make Kili bodily shiver in his chair.

He likes causing pleasure, the simple gift of it, not having to provide an explanation. He likes watching Kili try to resist it, or surrender without a comment, depending on his mood. It’s almost like teaching him, little by little, how all those things he already knows can feel, with a different intent.

Not quite sex yet; it’s intimacy. Not quite instruction; it’s sensation that brings awareness.

Is this what Kili wants: for Fili to teach him about sex? Is this how this will go down? Would Fili do it?

He can feel Kili’s smile as the younger man tilts his head, giving Fili better access, offering more skin for the erotic caress and Fili gives him just that: tongue tracing skin, fingers prickled by Kili’s stubble as he gently controls the angle of his jaw and holds him in place, as his teeth deliver playful little nips.

When Fili finally pulls away, Kili only stares at him, eyes warm and full of adoration, laugh lines creased. He could cheapen it with some throw-away comment, but he doesn’t.

Kili is simply happy.

Is it still love? Or is it sex? The lines are blurring, but whatever this place is, Fili likes it, for the delicate threads of trust and need wrapped all around it.

What he just did is steeped in what Fili knows of desire, but it’s also completely different for its simplicity and patience. In a way, this is Fili’s first too: he’s never before thought to offer that little intimate caress to anyone else he’s been with. He’s never wanted to.

It’s… interesting. Enticing.

And the logical next question is: what else might Fili want to do?

 

\---


	4. The Path Always Led To You

 

Kili finds the box by accident.

He’s deep inside a cupboard, searching for some Hammermill photo paper – he’s _sure_ he still has some left – when his hands pull out an unassuming black box with a colourful photography brand logo on top.

Only the box doesn’t contain any paper.

It contains photographs – smiling girls, enamoured-looking guys, places, an occasional squirrel. Old letters, on actual paper, some in his own haphazard scrawl, some in someone else’s neat handwriting. Postcards depicting luscious forests turned blue by time.

Faces Kili hasn’t seen in years. Memories.

His own younger face, of course, features a lot too - his hair is usually shorter and curling impossibly around his ears without the length and weight to keep it down. One or two shots where he’s decided to grow out a beard to make himself look older and more distinguished.

He gingerly touches a photograph of a blonde in a stretched, baggy sweater.

Madeline is his first. Not counting all those poor girls he used to drag across school corridors, holding hands and looking impossibly pleased with himself. Or those who used to drag him. Or those he used to giggle stupidly with, around the bike shelters.

But Madeline is the first person he thinks he loves.

She’s funny, smart, and friendly, like Kili is friendly, and everyone around them claims that they are _meant_ to be together. Of course, everyone around them is seventeen.

Kili is seventeen too. His body wants – Kili isn’t entirely sure what it wants, but whatever it is, it’s _urgent_. They only kiss and mess around, moaning with exaggeration at some awkward grope or other and occasionally making each other giggle. And then sometimes Kili gets back home and has a very satisfying wank. It works out great.

It fizzles out after eight months. There is no great breakdown - they just drift apart until they’re more friends than lovers and they both want to try other things. They part amicably and keep in touch for years.

Time moves on and next there are five photographs of Kili and a girl with a cascade of auburn hair.

Emily is Voiceless, has been for the past two years when Kili meets her.

It’s okay; Kili chatters enough for both of them and she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s also the one to teach him the basics of sign language.

They meet when Kili first dives into photography, while Emily is studying art, with a major in digital oils. Their entire environment at the time is incredibly creative and it’s what pulls them together, weaving itself firmly into what their relationship is.

Kili loves watching her paint, using her 3D projector, creating _something_ out of nothing, taking away lessons in light and contrast relevant to photography. It’s fair to say, in retrospect, that he’s a bit of a fanboy.

He likes her soft silences. He likes that her body is so much smaller than his and he remembers just wrapping himself around her, making her disappear inside his embrace. She makes him feel strong and capable and protective, though he relies on her as much as she relies on him.

It’s definitely more serious, more considerate and thoughtful, and it shows in how and when they approach their intimacy as well. They don’t grope; they touch. Kili is no longer a teenager.

They bump into Madeline in a shopping centre.

“Kili! It’s been ages, you dolt!”

“I missed your stupid face too.”

“Who’s your gorgeous girl then?”

“Madeline, meet Emily. Emily, this is Madeline. She’s a close friend from school.”

“And his ex.”

Kili bites his lip, looks to Em. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

“I love your boots, by the way! They go really well with this skirt!”

Emily only smiles and signs her thank yous, with Kili doing his best to try and translate the rest - something about some specific type of a flash sale he doesn’t entirely understand.

“I’m sorry,” he says later, when they’re alone. “It just hasn’t come up in conversation before.”

_It’s okay. She’s no longer interested in you and I didn’t expect you to be a hermit before we met._

Reassured, the three of them meet up a few more times, but it isn’t until Kili’s school reunion grill that the lightning strikes. It’s such a tiny thing: Emily is dishing out the salad which she and Kili spent an entire morning painstakingly chopping up.

“Thank you, hon!” Madeline chirps.

“You’re welcome.”

Kili’s eyes lock with Em’s instantly, and for a while they just stand there, frozen in shock. Nobody knows that she’s Voiceless. It’s rude to ask and some people simply choose to keep their words.

They go on for another two months, stubbornly, because what they built has worth in its own right, until Madeline is moving out of state, for work.

“You can’t lose her,” Kili tells Emily, as gently as he can. “You have to go.”

 _Not all bonds are about love._ She fixes him with a stare.

“Well, if it isn’t, I’ll still be here.”

They _almost_ have sex then. Not because they want each other, but because they’re desperate.

“I shouldn’t…” Kili whispers in the end, his nose pressed into the valley between her thigh and her hips, his lips trying to soothe the tremors.

 _No, you shouldn’t_ \- she shakes her head.

And then the tears overflow and Kili can only hold her as tight as he dares and try to contain all that misery.

 _But I love you!_ she signs, pushing him away violently to be able to move her hands.

“I know.”

Kili cries too, but later, when he’s alone and nobody’s watching.

Two years later he receives an invitation to a wedding. He doesn’t go, he _can’t_. But he does send the biggest bouquet of flowers he can find.

The next photo shows Kili, plus a bushy beard with some daisies stuck in it, in addition to a daisy chain on his head.

Kili snorts. He remembers that day, with Dan. They went camping for three days, out in the wild, with Kili hoping to get _something_ alive in front of his lens, to add to his small portfolio. Today Kili knows they’ve been far too loud and conspicuous for anything to come near.

Dan is the guy for whom Kili tries to learn guitar. He only manages the first seven notes of a famous rock ballad, but he still feels _cool_. He doesn’t have the patience for the rest.

Dan is a poet, lyricist and a bit of a social media celebrity, with a popular video channel. It’s the sense of adventure that brings them together, though Kili is too settled in himself now to be a straightforward blushing fanboy this time.

They start as friends and then push for more, because they _can_. There’s lots of more-or-less-drunken camping, sloppy kisses, deep conversations and unforgettable sunrises, during which Kili’s mind tries to work out who he is, how to be free, and what he actually wants.

Dan is also the first man to get Kili off, the first one to show him a different kind of pleasure to what Kili already knows. There is no denying the attraction, but it’s based on sparks that fly when they’re together, and like sparks, it’s bright but brief. Kili isn’t sure if it’s love, mostly because he never stops to think about it.

Whatever it is, it just isn’t strong enough for Kili to want more than quick satisfaction.

Still, they touch as much as they want to, and it’s during the course of that touching that Kili ends up collecting an impressive array of throw-away comments, which keep making him twitch, listen wide-eyed, and carefully store them for later.

“I would be amiss, really, not to mention the pleasures of slipping an ice cube up one’s arse.”

“You have some incredibly sensitive nipples, Kili.”

“Have you ever tried getting off more than once in a row, just to see if you can?”

Kili unwraps those comments one by one, years after they have parted ways, slowly exploring his own kinks, selecting the toys he might like and more than anything, learning about himself.

It ends after only a few months, when Dan takes off on a wild road trip across the country. Kili _wants_ to go, he really does, but it clashes with one of his first shoots for National Geographic and Kili _can’t_ let his dream go. In a sense, the world that pulls them apart.

What Kili remembers most from that relationship is laughter and sense of freedom. That, and that sleeping with men requires learning to ignore the snores.

The last photographs, twelve of them, are with Liam.

Liam is definitely a _partner_ , not a boyfriend. Kili is twenty two when they meet, fighting furiously for contracts and with a clear idea of who he is and what he wants.

They meet at a work party. It starts with a flattery, a bit of flirting and quickly progresses to a series of dates, mostly in fancy restaurants. _This is how grown-ups get together_ , flashes through Kili’s mind as he tries to order the things he can’t pronounce.

They definitely _click_ , but then Kili is _good_ at clicking with people, easy to like and love. He’s impressed with the respect he’s shown, with Liam’s work car, with his incredibly sensible plans for the future and how he doesn’t push Kili for more.

It turns serious very fast, between Kili’s need to love and care and Liam’s easy stability.

Kili moves in with him three months later; this time he thinks it really could be for life.

When it really comes down to it, it’s about convenience, familiarity and routine. Two sets of key cards, Liam’s 9 – 5 in a big publishing company, occasional theatre or cinema in the evening, introductions to both sets of parents. Kili still works, but takes his foot off the gas a little, when it comes to photography – partly because he doesn’t need to fight as hard now to be recognised, partly because there’s a steady income coming in, and partly simply because he’s distracted.

They kiss for their hellos and goodbyes and, if they feel like it, in between the two. They jerk each other off, sometimes, when Liam isn’t too tired after a long day at work. Kili still gets his cuddles, patiently re-arranging the other man so he can fit.

It’s enough; it fulfils their need for intimacy and anyway, life goes on and a concept of some fiery romance is a myth coined by the media. In retrospect, they do it more because they feel like they should, because it’s what’s expected in a relationship, than because they want to.

They argue a lot; more so as the time progresses. Kili almost welcomes those arguments, somehow grows to see them as a natural clash of their personalities, a bit of a spark and a challenge to the status quo. Life has made Kili brave, and occasionally reckless and he’s not ashamed to be either of those things, even if sometimes he walks away hurt.

They stay together two and a half years.

“Why don’t you get a _real_ job?!” Liam spits in his face one day. “Not all of us can fly themselves around the world wasting money on taking holiday snaps!”

Kili looks him in the eye, grabs his coat and leaves.

Three days later five boxes of his stuff, meticulously packed, turn up at Dis’ address.

Kili quietly cries himself to sleep for a while, but it hurts much deeper, far beyond simple tears and heartbreak. It’s worse, because it felt real, because it was a whole life he’s built, a life he thought he wanted.

He almost gives up on photography then – all his dreams, _who he is_ hauled brutally into question.

Eventually he flies himself out to Malaysia for a whole month, comes back and rents a flat in the city.

And that’s that for the next three years. No more love. Sex drive satisfied by the toys he gradually collects and his own right hand.

He throws himself into his work instead, winning an award after award, saving, eventually buying a place of his own.

Until one day –

Kili startles at the gentle beep of his fingerprint lock opening, and hurriedly shoves the box away, back with the others.

He looks up just in time to see Fili place a steaming paper cup on top of the kitchen counter and lean down to kiss the top of his head.

“Your hot beverage, your highness.”

He leaves again to unwrap himself from all his various hats and scarves in the hallway, but returns, just as Kili is putting away the last of the chaos he’s created.

He crouches down.

“I was looking for some Hammermill photo paper,” Kili tries to explain, but Fili only cradles his cheek and searches his eyes. His hands are cold, but Kili can’t help but lean into the familiar touch.

He can’t quite maintain the eye-contact, as Fili takes his time peering inside his soul.

And then Fili is sinking down to his knees and slowly closing the gap between them. His lips are cold too, but the _way_ he kisses, gentle, simple and honest immediately brings both of them to _here_ and _now_.

Kili doesn’t know how he feels. It was never _like this_ before.

It’s _different_. The structure of their love and closeness, the intensity of their feelings, how they are anchored together and carelessly fire off emotions bright and strong in each other, like fireworks. This _being free_ and not having to choose between dreams or reality, because Kili’s dreams have evolved around Fili’s to _become_ their reality.

No-one has ever known Kili as deeply, as intimately as Fili does and he’s done it all with nothing more than his quiet presence and by sharing just as much of himself.

And lust? Kili’s lust has been two-dimensional so far, like a record instead of an actual experience. And now it’s right there, because of how tightly twined in Fili Kili is, and because he can’t help but want to have it all.

It’s all ingrained so deep in his soul that it’s just a part of him and Kili _wants_ and loves and he just wishes that he could have somehow just skipped straight to this point.

“They finally poured an ice-ring in the stadium,” Fili says a’ propos of nothing, sitting back on his haunches and reaching for the nearest box to try and fit the right lid onto it. “Are you any good at ice-skating?”

“I’m appalling.”

“Excellent, me too. Wanna go and see if we can trip some of the pros?”

Kili blinks and snorts, despite himself.

Fili looks up and offers him a small, smug smile and suddenly Kili understands the simple truth of the pounding heart in his chest:

It was always meant to be _this_. It was always meant to be _them_.

 

\---

 

Kili stares. It’s probably rude, but he can’t –

Fili stares too. Calmly, patiently, as if he wasn’t completely naked and standing in the middle of the bathroom, when Kili has casually strolled in, with every intention of brushing his teeth.

He looks… compact. Not overly muscular, but there is quite a bit of definition already there, especially around his broad shoulders, chest and sturdy thighs. His anatomy suggests that Fili was always meant to be fit – it’s not like he has any interest in body sculpting; he’s nowhere near vane enough for that. Kili’s fingers know all that skin by heart of course, but Kili’s eyes have only met with glimpses of it, little by little, and now they are seduced by the complete vision before him.

Fili doesn’t try to cover himself under the bright bathroom lights; in fact he turns a little to face him directly, before leaning back against the tiles.

Later, Kili will learn that Fili has no shame. He’s lost it somewhere on the streets of their city a long time ago. It’s fundamental to how he is when it comes to sex.

“I was just –“ Kili tries, but can’t quite finish.

Fili flicks back his wet hair, which keeps slipping down around his face, runs his hand through it to try and keep it there. There is no judgement. He _allows_ him to have his fill and it makes Kili grow hot all over.

“I thought you –“

His eyes follow the lines of Fili’s stomach, the trail that runs neatly down its middle, to settle on his groin. Fili is soft, but still perfectly in proportion with the rest of him, among the dark, golden curls. Kili wants to touch him, like this, and watch for a reaction.

Fili’s own eyes leave Kili’s face and quite purposefully slide down to his chest, settle there for a while, until a subtle hunger slips into his gaze. That’s right – Kili is not wearing a top either and it’s funny how this hasn’t occurred to him until now.

“The – The teeth! I didn’t mean –“

Fili arches an eyebrow, locks his gaze with Kili’s once more.

Warmth grows in Kili’s heart, obscures the awkwardness, awakens curiosity.

They know each other intimately. Kili _knows_ that body. And Fili knows his. They have done things -

He watches Fili push away from the wall and slowly, calmly come to stand right in front of him.

Like this, up close and personal, it’s hard to keep their hands to themselves, but for now they are content just to watch for a moment longer.

And then Fili’s hands _do_ move and come to settle, warm and steady, on top of Kili’s hips and the comfy sweatpants that cover them.

“I think, in the interest of fairness, you should take those off,” he murmurs.

A moment ago Kili would have felt shocked, but something has shifted between them and instead he’s preoccupied watching a spark of mischief come to the surface among the mix of other emotions inside Fili’s blue eyes.

Kili moves his hands to the elastic band and pushes it down, along with his underwear, until he can step out of the rumpled pile of clothes.

More hunger now and Fili’s gaze slides shamelessly to look at what’s been revealed to him. It’s almost like a caress, when his eyes settle on Kili’s half-hard cock, and then the contact really is there, when his hand rests on Kili’s thigh, stroking the long lines of muscles.

“You should take me to bed,” he murmurs calmly again, only his eyes are darker now.

Kili doesn’t respond. Instead, he simply offers Fili his hand.

 

\---


	5. The Need Within

 

Kili is staring. Again.

They’re spending a few days with Dis, during a bright and beautiful explosion of summer, having promised her help with the plants and a bit of DIY, which turns out to be a garden shed building and painting project.

So painting they are. Specifically Fili is, just at that particular moment. Shirtless. Wearing only a pair of Kili’s old, khaki shorts. Which used to be too big for him when they first met, but since then Fili has taken up swimming and eating nice, healthy meals. So now they’re somewhat… fine-fitting on his shapely ass, something that Fili himself doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered by.

Kili, on the other hand, feels very bothered indeed. Practically assaulted.

It really doesn’t help either that with his fair complexion, Fili is also very well protected by a layer of sunscreen, which Kili keeps volunteering to re-apply, and it makes him look like some sort of an oiled Greek god. _Oiled!_

Kili swallows thickly and takes another desperate gulp of the chilled lemonade set out for them by Dis to stay hydrated.

Hair pulled into a high bun, which has already declared itself independent from the rest of Fili, sending wispy golden strands free – and they must be a tease on Fili’s naked shoulders – but he diligently ignores them, tempting Kili instead with a kissable nape of his neck exposed carelessly to the world. His eyes are unguarded and soft with quiet happiness, from the combination of garden, beautiful weather, real grass under his bare feet, a sense of purpose and the safety of what has become his second home.

Kili sighs dramatically and promises himself a million and one kisses he’s going to collect for his torments in the evening when they’re alone again.

To his right, stretched comfortably in a deck chair, his mother entertains herself watching Kili watch Fili. It makes ogling Fili slightly awkward, but Kili is damned if he’s going to stop – that’s _his One_ up there on that ladder, making everything horny in the radius of several miles.

A red dot of Dis’ laser pointer appears in front of Fili, attracting his attention, before moving a little way away to his right, highlighting some patch where Fili apparently missed a spot, making him turn and reach out to get it with his brush.

For a moment he reminds Kili of a cat, but then his attention shifts to the way Fili moves –

Dis flicks her pointer to the left now, a bit further, hovering over what to Kili looks like a perfect coat of paint, and now Fili has to change position slightly to be able to reach, muscles dancing sinuously under the skin of his broad shoulders, whole planes of his back shifting in a way that makes Kili want to trace them with his fingers, or possibly his tongue.

Kili startles at the loud snap of Dis’ fingers and an imperial order of her hand, pointing towards the shed and declaring that he’s had enough of a break now and needs to get back to painting. He sends her an annoyed look, only to receive one delighted and amused in equal measures in return.

Sometimes, just _sometimes_ Kili wonders if his mother might actually be Satan with a gardening hobby.

He’s not sure if it’s better or worse, once he’s climbed his own ladder on the other side of the shed and found himself presented with a bright smile on that beloved face and a chest unapologetically covered in a perfect trail of golden hair. There are even faint smudges of _whispering sage_ across Fili’s mid-section where he must have accidentally caught himself on the wet paint and Kili is suddenly, hopelessly pre-occupied wondering if Fili might let him help clean up after.

He dips his own brush in the paint and starts distractedly applying it to the closest section of wood available. Kili works faster than Fili, but is fairly certain that his side will need a second coat. There’s a plan to this approach – seems only fair that having done such a good job on the other side, Fili should give him a hand with this one, and being situated so close to the fence, there will be no way to watch them from a deck chair.

 

\---

 

Turns out that Kili is incredibly enthusiastic and tactile in his journey of sexual discovery.

His hands especially tend to wander more than Kili himself is often aware, which tends to lead to Fili moaning, Kili, in turn, almost jumping in surprise, and then the wandering intensifying.

Which is all well and good, but Fili has a reputation to uphold.

Which is why next time Kili’s hands find their way between Fili’s legs, he’s ready to get his own back.

He swings neatly into position in front of Kili – “Fee?” – locks his eyes with Kili and then slowly sinks to his knees, making sure that Kili’s trousers and underwear sink right down alongside with him.

Kili’s warm, brown eyes are almost comically wide.

“Mmmmm,” Fili rumbles half in re-assurance, half to acknowledge his own winning move, eyes the half-hard , curving length before him, licks his lips and –

“No, not like this.”

That stops him dead in his tracks, making him look up.

“I just… I don’t want you kneeling before me, Fili. Doesn’t feel right,” Kili protests.

A quick glance to Fili’s direct line of vision informs Fili that Kili’s body is very much on board with the idea of him on his knees for Kili.

“Kili. What I want –“ he licks his lips again causing a sharp little intake of air “- happens to be down here. So _I’m_ down here. Unless you have some fairly acrobatic inclination, I’d like to stay right where I am,” he explains patiently. “It’s okay,” he adds, softer, touched by the sentiment.

Kili whines, but it’s hard to tell if it’s in pleasure or protest, when Fili delivers a first gentle lick to the head of his cock, one hand stroking over his hip in a soothing pattern, the other holding him in place so Fili can take him fully into his mouth and –

“Pillow!”

He manages to dodge the soft object practically shoved in his face, but it’s a close thing.

Above him, Kili is giving him A Look.

He rolls his eyes, but obediently places it under his knees. It’s better, though the carpet before wasn’t too bad either. He eyes Kili warily, lowering his head to his slick length once more, but there are no further objects being shoved at him this time.

Kili is slimmer than himself but longer, and his cock curves ever so slightly towards his stomach. Like this, up close, Fili takes his time studying it, fingers following faint veins visible under the velvety skin, flicking the foreskin back to tease the slit with soft little kitten licks, before taking pity on him and starting a gentle rhythm of suction around most of the length.

Kili moans and it’s all the encouragement Fili needs.

He smiles a little around the hot, wet skin and adds his tongue to coax out more of those delicious sounds.

“Fili! F-Fee!” Kili doesn’t disappoint, and Fili tilts his head a little to look him in the eye, never letting up, feeling his own desire flood his system at the sight of one pink, perfect lip being mauled savagely by Kili’s teeth.

Feeling more at ease now, Fili closes his eyes once more and allows himself to sink deeper, until he can feel the head of Kili’s cock hit the back of his throat.

It’s wet and dirty now, and perhaps just a tiny bit – Kili pants, moans, and Fili doesn’t care. He focuses on pleasure, on making this good for Kili, rewarded when the breathless noises above him hit a desperate note.

He startles a little when fingers slip into his hair along his temple and further back, helping keep his hair out of the way, but soon curling of their own accord. He doesn’t stop; expects the hand to push his head down, maybe hold him in place for Kili to take what he wants.

But Kili doesn’t do either of those things; instead his blunt nails scratch at Fili’s scalp, uncoordinated, yet perfectly in rhythm, causing blue eyes to fly open at the unexpected, sharp influx of pleasure.

Fili moans around the length in his mouth, can’t help himself, tilts his head into the affectionate gesture.

Beneath him, Kili is positively trembling, his hips finally twitching to deliver the tiniest, aborted trusts, but it’s all turning into a bit of a haze for Fili, hand shoved urgently inside his own boxers, _oh God, yes, c’mon Kili_ , musky taste of salt on his tongue, fingers massaging his scalp, head swimming because _why does it feel so good?!_ Approval, encouragement, kindness, care, affection, love, control and a teasing edge of blatant desire all wrapped up into one.

“I’m going to - _Fee!_ ” a delicate warning tug to his hair – Fili _almost_ comes on the spot from the momentary tight grip of those wonderful fingers – and then Kili is falling apart and Fili swallows it all down, for the first time, because, vengefully, _he wants to_ , because some part of him craves the filthiness of the act, and because _he_ was the one to push Kili into oblivion.

“Nnnnn…! Too much!” Kili whimpers, then gives a full-bodied shiver and Fili pulls off and up, coughs, then gulps down the sweet air, eyes unfocussed, his hand urgent and tighter than he normally likes it around himself.

Somehow, through it all, Kili’s fingers have stayed in his hair, stroking, massaging, but gentler now than Fili needs, making him press against the touch like a spoiled cat.

“Hnnngh…” he’d explain, but his words have all abandoned him, little traitors, in favour of swirling in his head in an incoherent mess of _want_ and Fili doesn’t know how to ask.

Their eyes lock for a moment and that’s enough.

“Here, let me… Come up Fili, let me help.”

He’s being guided up and pulled half into a hug, with one of Kili’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, encouraging him to lean on Kili, and his other hand scrambling to push his trousers down and out of the way. Kili will want closeness now, and Fili needs it to, though he doesn’t entirely understand why. It’s a bit awkward, but he manages to plant one knee blindly on the edge of the sofa, use his forearm to stabilise himself against the cushion of the backrest and press his forehead into Kili’s shoulder, panting weekly against his skin.

“ _Please_ ,” he whispers hoarsely, his eyes just about managing to catch a glimpse of Kili’s hand wrapping around his cock alongside Fili’s own in the empty space between them. Kili’s other hand slips further back into his hair, unruly strands around his face slipping out of his grasp and brushing softly around Fili’s cheek. His breath catches and stutters as those clever fingers resume their gentle scratching at the back of his head, pressure just perfect, just _right there_ , and it’s the same emotion-tinged force of desire that hits Fili once more.

It rolls across him like a wave, now that he’s paying attention, makes him surrender and kiss whatever skin he has available, because it’s about love, like this, and Fili soaks it up like a sponge.

“On me. Come on me, Fili.”

For a long, blindingly good moment he’s suspended like that, forcefully held there with nothing more than a gentle touch – pleasure so good it’s almost over-ripe, soaring and free to have whatever he wants, mindless, delighted, loved.

And then it tips, just the tiniest bit, and Fili loses himself in the feeling completely. He thinks he cries out, but he can’t really tell.

It’s the safest orgasm he’s ever had, with Kili setting him free, yet still attached with just a thread of a safety line, ready to catch him.

He blinks slowly, watching the thick, white drops start their slow, parallel journeys down the side of Kili’s stomach and ribs, catching briefly on the coarse, dark hair. He’ll think about that image later and find it to be ridiculously hot, but for now he’s content just to observe with sated curiosity, until Kili wipes at it distractedly with the edge of his t-shirt.

With a monumental effort Fili uncoils himself and flops onto his back on the sofa next to Kili, his hand automatically finding his One’s to thread their fingers together. He simply pants for a moment, eyes closed, trousers around his knees, chest heaving.

“Sorry. Apparently I _really_ like that.” He shoots Kili a tired sideways glance, trying to read his expression.

“That’s okay. Apparently I _really_ like it too,” Kili grins, head tilting to rest on top of Fili’s shoulder, looking ready to pass out.

And why not? They have just achieved something spectacular together, they deserve some rest.

Fili doesn’t so much move, as he slides sideways, Kili climbing after him, making himself comfortable on top of his chest. He wraps his arms around this precious human being and allows himself to drift off, everything else completely insignificant.

 

\---

 

With Fili it isn’t so much _who_ , as it is _what_.

It wouldn’t be fair to say that he’s had many sexual encounters in his life so far, but those that Fili did have told him all he needed to know about what he likes and how he likes it. There isn’t the space on the streets for anything other than honesty, even when it comes to intimacy.

He knows pleasure, knows what to do to get it, how to move to make it really good, of that he’s certain. Tactile and observant, he’s not ashamed of taking what he needs and in turn freely giving what his partner might want. He understands how it works.

Sex is a feeling and desire is a delicious shiver running down his back in anticipation of getting it.

Sure, Fili has a preference. He’s gauged as much from that handful of times when he wasn’t so hungry or cold that his idly wandering mind was able to pick a man from the crowd passing by and pronounce him ‘attractive’. Attractive or not, they ignore Fili’s existence like everyone else, so there is no value to his discovery.

He tries it with a woman, once. Just to see what it’s like, in case it might be better. Besides, they’re all so miserable and she needs him.

It’s good enough that so long as he focuses on how it feels, he doesn’t have any problems. A bit awkward perhaps, easier and more wet, and yet, when he touches her slim breasts, it does nothing for him. After, he pulls her close and holds her through her shivers and soundless cries, but it’s kindness, not affection that drives him.

From that he concludes that if he ever somehow met his One, and they happened to be a woman, who happened to want sex, he would at least be able to offer her satisfaction.

Except Fili’s One isn’t a woman at all, and sex is not exactly on the agenda at first.

Until it is, a good long while before Kili’s little Shower Incident.

It’s ridiculous how it hits him all at once: Kili, leaning casually against the metal railing of the pier, during their first trip to the seaside. He’s demolishing an ice cream - _you_ have to _have ice cream when you’re at the seaside, I don’t make the rules Fili, here, let’s get one from this place, they look so good, don’t they look good to you?_ \- Kili is happy and he’s smug about having been proven right when Fili has his first taste.

His pink tongue darts out for a lick and -

Fili wonders what that tongue would feel like dragging slowly against his skin. He wonders what Kili looks like with fingers inside his body and how much he’d let Fili do. He wonders about the look in his eyes when he’s coming, and if he trembles and cries out or if he’s quiet.

 _I want you_ , Fili thinks.

And suddenly, everything Fili knows about his own sexual preferences tilts on its axis and shifts, as if, just to defy all his certainty and previous experience, the universe decided to make him into the object of some monumental joke.

Fili blinks slowly, once, twice, then re-evaluates between one lick and another.

It isn’t so much _what_ , as it is _who_.

It’s about Kili. Always Kili. Only Kili. What would Kili be like? What he’d sound, what he’d do, what his reactions might be. Lust is a pure extension of love, was always supposed to be that for Fili and he’s got no idea how he never realised before.

Probably because he’s never loved before.

He wants to kiss, wants to tell Kili how he looks, free and wild, how much he means, wants to wrap both his hands around the slight curve of that trim waist and –

Anything. He doesn’t care what it is they do, only that it’s the brown, laughing eyes, warm, low voice and skin somehow permanently tanned. So long as it’s Kili.

He’s Kili-sexual.

In front of him, the oblivious object of Fili’s desires shoots him another one of his blinding, delighted smiles, possibly teasing him about something, possibly expecting a response, but –

Fili casually shifts his weight from one foot to the other, uses a hand in his pocket to discreetly adjust himself and then calmly, sensibly acknowledges that he is, in fact, doomed.

 

\---


End file.
